#nomelwelloy

[nomelwelloy]

Zuko doing his work, but he’s feeling a little under the weather. The Fire Lord is coughing, sneezing, and a little unsteady as he moves between the shelf and table, bundling scrolls and books in his arms, tossing them haphazardly across his desk.

You pause, looking up in between your own reading. During the entire time you’ve been there, you’ve noticed him forgetting signed documents, standing in a daze by the fire, and watched him make double trips to his shelf while forgetting the books in his hand. That was just this afternoon- what of the morning then?

With a bit of time before your evening appointment, you’d decided to accompany him while he worked; sitting in a little corner of his study by the window with a book in hand. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen each other, but Zuko’s been busy, even now, and you decide it’s better to stay out of his way. He sips the medicinal tea you brought earlier, squinting at a yellowed page.

You only pipe up once in a while, checking in on him when he’s standing idle for too long, like he’s forgotten his next task; and he tells you he’s fine, a frown etched in his brow and a hand on his hip, another with a handkerchief for his nose. Zuko’s in between moods; he’s determined to work, resisting the lethargy from the flu, but when he stands he’s swaying on his feet.

You go back to reading, and the hours fly by a little quicker than you notice. It’s soon time to leave and any later, you’ll be late. You quietly begin to pack your things, but he’s noticed, already setting his brush down.

“Is it that late already?”

You chuckle, stepping towards him with your arms outstretched. He gets up from his chair, hand finding your waist as he pulls you in. His palms are so warm even through all the fabric, more so than his usual constitution.

“A kiss,” he asks, leaning in with a lidded gaze.

“What if I get sick?” You tease, leaning back. He persists, pushing you closer to him.

“Just a small one,”

You tease again, resisting only a second more but it’s hard to when his gaze is cast to your lips, warm hands circling your waist. You give him a quick peck, and then one more on the cheek and a quick squeeze.

“I’ve got to go now,” you step away, arm still around his neck. Zuko looks at you with a quiet smile, hands still on you, his face getting closer.

“A quick one,” barely a whisper.

As if on instinct, you lean up and brush your lips against his once more. He smiles, kissing back a little firmer, before he gradually loosens his grip on you.

“I really have to go,” you smile sadly, and he looks as disheartened. “I’ll see you soon, all right?”

“Okay,” he says quietly, watching as you slip out of his hold. He trails after you to the threshold of his study, waving you off limply.

You bite back a sigh and returned the wave with a soft greeting, before turning for good as you speed down the palace steps and into the streets.

You make a mental note to cancel tomorrow’s appointments, and to bring more medicinal tea. But knowing the Fire Lord, perhaps something stronger, if it meant getting him to lie down even just for a day.

—-

my humble contribution to the zuko fics 🙂‍↕️ 。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

edit: if you liked this, stick around! I have one more short Zuko drabble on the way… hopefully I can get it out soon 😵‍💫!! (Tq in advance for your patience..<33)

[illyhillyu]

I saw this tweet 😭😭

and I think it’ll just be hilarious if in a modern au, tartali/zhongchi buying decorations in December on their own, no discussions or arrangements beforehand; Child comes home with Christmas ornaments while Zhongli comes home with Chinese New Year deco, and they just end up staring dumbly at each other like that pikachu meme lmaoooooo

also wishing everyone a late Merry Christmas! 🫶🏼

[nomelwelloy]

Zhongli can’t always tell what Childe is thinking- sometimes his gaze is far away, like he’s lost in a distant memory. His eyes seem to go listless for a moment; a dull blue, contemplative, ruminating. His face is a blank sheet, but his eyes give him away. A quiet cerulean blue, still as a windless ocean.

But when Zhongli calls out to him, reaching in to draw him from the depths of his mind, he is, more often than not, met with bright eyes and a curious smile. Shifting cobalt hues, a dazzling ray over the swelling tides.

And sometimes, it takes Zhongli a moment, like he’s adjusting to the radiance of the sun. He’s lived 600 years, but he’s never seen one quite like this. Its warmth envelops his bones, thawing an ancient cold every time that gaze falls upon him. And each time, he realises how much he needs it- hungers for it, more and more.

He can never guess what is brewing beneath its surface, but he’s come to know when Childe is a little too far away, sailing alone in that still, windless ocean.

And perhaps, on occasions, Zhongli is selfish; not wanting him to sail too far, or simply desiring that brilliant beam upon himself, he draws Childe out of it with a gentle touch of his arm, and a quiet, “Ajax?”.

“Yes?”

Zhongli smiles, heart settling, and he bends down to kiss his temple. “The rain has stopped, care to join me for a walk?”

Childe leans into his embrace, “Right behind you,”

[nomelwelloy]

Kaveh coming home after a work trip, stepping into the house to find Haitham reading on the divan.

He greets him with a soft gaze lifting from his book. “Welcome home,”

Kaveh returns the smile, wanting so badly to just throw himself onto his lover, but he's sticky and damp from the journey, and he'd definitely get an earful from the germaphobe that Haitham is.

So after his shower, when he's slipped on a comfortable shirt and pair of lounge pants, he runs to the common room and jumps onto the sofa, sprawling himself over Haitham who can only grunt at the sudden attack.

Kaveh sighs contentedly, arms cirling Haitham’s neck, resting his cheek on his chest. He lays there without moving an inch for a good minute, soaking up his warmth like a lizard under the sun. He sighs once more when Haitham’s hand finds its way to his hair, gently scraping against his scalp.

"How was the trip?"

"Productive," Kaveh's words are muffled againt his skin. he recounts the days' events, lifting his head to rest on his chin.

Haitham gazes down at him, and Kaveh’s too tired to notice, eyes blinking slowly as he fights the fatigue, but Haitham’s gaze is gentle and full of affection. He doesn't say a word while Kaveh speaks-or mumbles through his exhaustion-instead, he continues his little ministrations along his body, with little rubs and squeezes along his arms and neck, gently massaging his scalp, it lulls Kaveh further into a drowsed state.

"There were so many shooting stars... what was that joke Cyno made?…What do you call a bacon-wrapped comet?" Kaveh asks, scooting farther up, arms folded on Haitham’s chest as he rests his head on them.

Haitham makes a curious hum, his hand sliding to cup Kaveh’s jaw, damp gold locks tangled in his fingers.

"A meat-eor." Kaveh grins lazily.

Haitham frowns, but it fades for a small smile and he brings Kaveh’s face up for a brief kiss to his forehead. "Go to sleep Kaveh. you're rambling,"

"Not yet, just a bit more..." Kaveh presses his face into Haitham’s hand. "this is nice,"

Haitham sighs, using his free hand to hoist Kaveh up, adjusting so they could both lie side by side on the divan. "I guess we'll just sleep here then."

"That sounds nice too," Kaveh inches closer, face pressed against Haitham’s shoulder, tangling their legs together.

"Goodnight Kaveh" Haitham kisses the top of his head, rubbing soothing circles in his back, even when Kaveh eventually goes slack next to him, breathing quietly in deep slumber. Haitham picks up his book to continue reading, all the while cradling Kaveh in his arms.

[nomelwelloy]

It’s dark, late, and Childe can’t sleep.

He tosses and turns, restless, and sits up, head in his hands. Why can’t he sleep?

He shuffles over to the table to pour himself a glass of water, and from here he can see out the window. His heart skips a beat; in the distance, the little square of light from the consultant’s residence is visible.

Childe pulls on a shirt and steps into his shoes, and he’s very soon lingering at the steps of Zhongli’s home. He knocks, rocking back on his heels, suddenly nervous, pacing the seconds as he waits for a response. Maybe he should have thought this through a bit better-

The door cracks open, and Zhongli is standing in the doorway, confused, but Childe is busy drinking in the sight of him with his hair draped over his shoulders, silk lounge robes cascading to his ankles, ink-stained fingers pushing at his sleeves. “Ajax…?”

Childe blinks, greeting him with a bashful smile. “I hope I’m not disturbing,” he tucks his fidgeting hands away into his pockets. “I was wondering if you’d like some company? I saw that your light was on…”

Zhongli blinks, then the corner of his lips lifts with the slightest of smiles. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I bought some new books today,” Zhongli says when they’re upstairs, returning to his desk as he lights another ring of incense. “Feel free to use the bed,” he gestures to the four-poster bed at the other end of the room. Zhongli apologises for the books taking up the window seat where Childe usually sits, and for every other chair in the room that was occupied by an artefact or another. “I…wasn’t expecting anyone,”

Childe reassures him, if only too eagerly. He’s been up here plenty of times before for meetings, friendly visits, that one night after the lantern rite festival where he kissed Zhongli by the window- but never this late, at such an intimate timing, where everyone in the world was asleep, except for the two of them. He’s never even been near his bed, until now.

Childe runs his hand over the sheer silk drapings tied to the bed post, the ornate teak frame and the white cotton sheets. The mattress is soft, nothing at all like the rock he sleeps on back at the inn. Childe leans back with his random book of choice, guided by some instinct to settle on the left side of the bed. He could see Zhongli working from where he was, delving back into his work with a determined focus. Childe chews his lip, opening his book nonetheless.

But Childe misses the glances straying his way, and more often than not, the quiet sighs from misspelling one too many words. It’s getting later in the night, and Zhongli can feel the fatigue begin to creep in on him. The brush grows heavy in his hand, and the allure of the bed is too great to resist (irregardless of his guest, he is certain…). Zhongli pushes through the last few pages, almost reaching the end when he can’t help another stolen glance, and his heart takes a little skip. The Snezhnayan delegate lies recumbent on his bed, eyes fluttering as the open book in his hand gradually comes to rest on his chest.

Childe is already dosing off, lulled by the warmth of the room and the drifting incense; the words from his antique catalog drift in his minds eye, slipping away from him as his eyelids grow heavy. His body seems to move of its own accord, his head finding the pillow as he sinks into it, unable to resist its softness. It smells of incense and violetgrass, just like Zhongli.

The space beside him begins to dip, and Childe isn’t thinking very much anymore except that he needs to be closer. He inches over until he can feel the warmth radiating off Zhongli. Childe sighs contentedly.

“Goodnight Ajax,” Zhongli’s voice sends pleasant vibrations across the bed, enticing Childe to snuggle ever closer. The consultant muses, then he wraps an arm around Childe, shifting nearer himself.

Childe smiles, and he presses his face into Zhongli’s chest. All at once, the noise in his head is swiftly silenced by the sudden serenity cascading through him. He wants very much to say something, but his tongue grows heavy and his limbs leaden. He’s finally delivered a repose so serene, it melts the world away around him, around them, all before he can say goodnight.

[nomelwelloy]

I think I’m in love with you,

The thought occurs to him mid-descent when his gaze lands on the consultant, easily picking him out from the throng of people bustling about the streets.

Zhongli is divine in the lantern-light, warm hues haloing the gold of his hair and clothes.

Childe takes a moment to drink in the sight of the man standing before the lantern festival’s giant centrepiece. Grand as it may be, it seemed made to adorn wherever he stood, a mise en scène of Zhongli himself.

He’s leaning against the bannister, fan fluttering elegantly in hand as he gazes up at the sculpture. Zhongli appears deep in thought as he usually does, untouched by the chaos around him.

Poised, wise, dignified, yet a little scatterbrained and hiding a very dry sense of humour- Childe has thought these things about Zhongli ever since the day he had the pleasure of meeting him. The last bit was a surprise, but nonetheless made Zhongli all the more attractive to him. How could one man be so elegant yet so… silly? And something underneath that calm that he thought he’s seen glimpses of at times. The darker reflections in Zhongli’s eyes, glowing like hot magma, it makes Childe shiver with desire.

How long can Childe stand here before he’s noticed? How long can Childe keep up the facade until he’s found out? The accidental brush of their hands, the more-than-friendly teasing, and the little gifts under the guise of Snezhnayan goodwill…

Especially under the gaze of those lovely amber eyes— he can feel it begin to crumble. The little touches growing bolder, the distance between their bodies smaller-

-his heart skips. Zhongli’s gaze has found his, and with just as much ease it seems. The corner of his lips softly curl, and Childe can feel the radiance of that smile from even a mile away.

He returns it with a small bow of his head, and has half the mind to continue his way wherever he was going, to disappear into the crowd below before he’s ensnared once more.

He resumes his descent, but Childe makes the mistake of indulging in another second and glances up only to see his name shaped by Zhongli’s lips. The crowd has roared back to life, but he can hear it clear as day.

And just as all the other times Zhongli has called out to him, Childe yields.

I’m in love you,

He resumes his decent towards him, getting ever closer to saying those words aloud.

[nomelwelloy]

In the middle of a heated discussion with Viktor— at the sight of his lightly flushed cheeks and furrowed brows, and the way his accent curls a little stronger at the end of his sentences in exasperation—

— Jayce, overwhelmed by this sudden flutter in his stomach, inches up on his elbows and to brush his mouth against the bow of Viktor’s.

It’s over as quickly as it happens, and by the time he realizes what he’s done, he’s frozen in place, and he can feel Viktor’s breathing stutter just inches above him. He quickly sits back then, cautiously watching the other man.

Viktor stares, dumbfounded, but his cheeks are blooming a rosy pink. He’s trying to avoid Jayce’s gaze, and he’s shuffling the blueprints absentmindedly around the table but they just don’t seem to settle into their piles. He clears his throat, “As I was saying-”

Jayce nods eagerly, clasping a hand over his mouth to hide his grin, “Yes, you were saying?”

[nomelwelloy]

Childe is patched up by Zhongli after every battle.

Plaster on his cheek and bandages wrapped around his chest, Childe sits on the edge of the countertop, making no move to put his shirt back on. His pants ride low on his hips and he leans back, suppressing a wince. Pain is secondary; Zhongli’s utmost attention is priority, yet it still feels like he doesn’t have all of it. Childe looks up at him with puppy eyes, as Zhongli applies ointment to the cuts on his face and hands.

He is mostly engrossed in his task, effectively ignoring Childe's trailing hand along his thigh. "Zhongli xiansheng..." Childe croons.

Zhongli shakes his head disapprovingly. He pauses in between cleaning a nasty, deep gash on his shoulder just to sigh heavily, before he picks up the disinfecting balm. It's the most effective thing from Bubu pharmacy so far, and Zhongli has tried a multitude of others before to say that with confidence.

Childe lets out a breathy giggle, seemingly unaffected by the pain expect for the occasional sharp inhale. He hooks a finger into Zhongli's belt loop and pulls him closer, arching up so their faces are mere inches apart, but even then Zhongli does not react.

"Come away unscathed, and maybe, I'll humour you." The consultant growls, low and stern.

Childe feels a shiver ride up his spine, goosebumps breaking over his skin. "That's contradictory, no? You're supposed to care for the injured, not ignore them." he pouts, blinking his bright blue eyes for added effect. "You break my heart, sir,"

Zhongli throws the bloodied towels and bandage wrappings aside with an exasperated sigh. "You’re good as new. With the state you always show up in, I sincerely hope you’re the one winning,”

“Of course,” Childe smirks, planting a quick kiss to Zhongli’s cheek. “I’m your champion,”